


Ganache

by GretchenSinister



Series: Wishing on a Star AU [2]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23219449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: xxdaimonxx asked: "OH BOY OH BOY, something from the "Wishing on a star au" or from my superheroe au!"HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIGHTY!
Relationships: Pitch Black/Sanderson Mansnoozie
Series: Wishing on a Star AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667509
Kudos: 3
Collections: Blacksand Short Fics





	Ganache

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 5/31/2014.

Pitch still held the opinion that it was beneath Sandy to enter the Springtime Sweets Chocolate Contest. Even if he was acquainted with the Australian—Pitch steadfastly refused to call a grown man “Bunny,” but no other name had yet been offered—Sandy would be miles and miles better than him or any other contestant. On this, he would wager his tongue.

However, he currently planned to keep his tongue quite still in this regard, for in his hands he now holds a note from yesterday, which reads, in Sandy’s large, clear, handwriting: _Come to the kitchen tomorrow. I want to show you what I’m going to make for SSCC._

Such honor that the note promised was nearly incomprehensible to Pitch. He had never, _never_ , been invited to visit a kitchen before. And now _Sandy_ was inviting him? Earlier that morning, Pitch had tried to agonize over what to wear, which was quite difficult, considering the monochromatic nature of his wardrobe. Anyway, he knew that such agonies were both fruitless and futile, considering that nothing he could wear could bring him to the level of beauty that Sandy’s mystery muse apparently possessed, thanks to Sandy’s frequent allusions.

Pitch sighed as he knocked on the kitchen door. He supposed it was a privilege to be granted access to such intimate topics of conversation so soon, particularly with a man who could not speak, but such allusions remained a source of an unfamiliar and distinctively disagreeable stinging sensation in the region of his chest.

Just thinking about it brought it back, but Sandy’s cheery smile when he opened the door chased it away with a swiftness that argued for only one conclusion, to which Pitch had long ago decided he would be particularly difficult to lead to. I will need all your faith to help me, dear friends.

Pitch held out the note as if he was not sure he would be admitted without it, but Sandy did not so much as glance at it before he ushered Pitch into his kitchen. _Wait!_ Pitch wanted to say, as Sandy passed him an apron and bustled him over to a set of burners next to a large marble prep table. _Wait!_ He wanted to have some time to look, some time to take in the gleaming tile, the shining steel and copper, the glass and china and iron and wood. This was Sandy’s space, his space of wondrous creation, and Pitch wanted to _linger_ as he entered—let us say, friends, that this fellow had reached truly incredible levels of sublimation at this moment. Thankfully, I suspect Sandy plans to break him out of metaphor today.

On the marble, Pitch observed several blocks of chocolate of various kinds, along with a number of other ingredients and tools. What caught Pitch’s eye, though, was the whiteboard and marker.

“Is…is our usual interpreter not here?” he asked.

Sandy nodded, and wrote quickly. _Marie is spending the day with her beau in the country._

“Oh…that sounds lovely.” Pitch would be embarrassed to admit it, but he felt alarmingly unchaperoned.

Sandy smiled again and wrote a little more. _We’ll start by preparing the ganache._

Pitch seated himself on a stool by the marble slab as Sandy began to chip a brick of dark chocolate into chunks. Immediately, he appeared to focus on nothing but his work, so Pitch felt free to focus just as intently on him.

So focused was Pitch that, when Sandy held out the chocolate-laden wooden spoon to him, he startled, causing Sandy’s arm to waver for the first time throughout the whole process. A drizzle of ganache fell upon the bright white of Pitch’s apron, but Sandy righted the spoon almost at once, meeting Pitch’s eyes as he offered it once more.

Oddly, Pitch thought he saw challenge in those eyes. Odder yet, he thought he knew just what to do to meet that challenge. Most odd still, he decided to do just that.

He leaned forward, not to take the spoon in his own hands, but instead to attempt to take the bowl of the spoon into his mouth. The ganache hit his tongue, far smoother than silk, thick, and rich, the chocolate rather darker than he expected to taste in combination with such an astonishing texture. Sandy’s smile grew wider as he watched Pitch’s expression change from delighted surprise to a selfish, reflective pleasure that only grew more marked as Pitch closed his eyes.

Such a simple thing, Pitch tried to tell himself, but it was not simple at all, was it, to do something simple so masterfully? He swallowed, and without thinking tried to lick more chocolate from the spoon, succeeding only in causing some of the excess to drip from the corner of his mouth.

Sandy pulled the spoon back and Pitch opened his eyes, entirely unsure of what his face looked like and what Sandy’s was saying. He felt utterly at sea as he searched Sandy’s eyes for some sort of logical explanation, and far enough out to drown when, after a slow, lazy blink, Sandy brought the spoon to his lips to lick away the remaining ganache.

All he knew was that it was not strictly his love for fine food that would necessitate him remaining seated for some time, and that he was even gladder of his apron now than he had been when the ganache first spilled.

**Author's Note:**

> Tags and Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> #pretty sure this is a sex scene if you're a frigid restaurant critic
> 
> plush-anon said: JESUS CHRIST AND CTHULHU ALIVE WOMAN THIS IS DELECTABLE PORN IN EVERY SINGLE WAY AND NOT A SINGLE KISS HOW DID YOU MANAGE THIS DELICIOUS WITCHCRAFT HOW


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